FEET OF KNIVES by Michael Achile Umameh

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When the drab drum of winter
dies of the weight of warmth
spring’s dewy fingers;
feet full of knives; icicles
rising and descending
a cold caress on an erect skeleton
of shivering hermits
grating through lauds.
From the hell-mouth of a heater,
God’s breathing burning bush
rings the sweet sound of salvation.

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